


Feels Like Home

by meils121



Category: Leverage
Genre: Multi
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-02-15
Updated: 2014-02-15
Packaged: 2018-01-12 11:42:10
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,171
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1185822
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/meils121/pseuds/meils121
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Parker likes watching Eliot cook.  Hardison likes knowing that Parker is happy.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Feels Like Home

            It starts one day when Eliot’s cooking dinner for the team.  He turns around to get something out of the fridge, and when he turns back, Parker is sitting on the counter, gently kicking her feet against the cabinets.  She offers Eliot a small smile but doesn’t say anything, and Eliot knows her well enough not to push her.  He goes back to cutting onions and Parker leans back against the wall.  The next time he looks at her, she’s got her eyes closed and a content little smile on her lips. 

            It happens a few more times, enough times that Eliot realizes it’s a thing now.  Sometimes Parker talks to him from her perch on the counter.  Other times, the only sound is that of his knife hitting the cutting board and the sizzle of the meat he’s currently pan-frying.  Eliot doesn’t question it.  Parker’s got too many little quirks for Eliot to ever sort through, and he figures that if she’s happy, he’s not going to ask her about it. 

            Eventually, he sees the pattern.  Parker doesn’t just watch him randomly.  It’s after jobs that veered a little too close to going off the rails that she joins him in the kitchen.  A few times, he’s even found her waiting for him, a hopeful look in her eye that he can’t say no to, even when he’s so battered and bruised that the last thing he wants to do is stand over the stove.  On those nights, he’ll make her brownies.  They’ll end up on the couch, Eliot with ice packs pressed all over him and Parker curled into Hardison as the three of them split the whole pan of brownies.

            Parker doesn’t know why she decides to go sit in the kitchen, except that she is feeling lonely and Eliot’s the only one there.  He raises his eyebrows when he sees her.  It’s a look he gives her when he’s surprised at the suddenness of her appearance but not her actions, and Parker likes seeing it.  Eliot growls at her a lot, but she’s figured out his soft side.  She’s happy when he doesn’t ask her why she’s there, because right then Parker isn’t able to explain.  She just likes the comforting rhythm of him cutting onions.  She closes her eyes and lets herself be surrounded by the warmth of the kitchen, and she doesn’t feel so lonely anymore.

            Parker doesn’t realize how many times she’s gone back to watch Eliot cook until a few months later when she notices Eliot keeps her countertop perch clear of produce and cookbooks.  Parker has known all along that he hasn’t minded her presence, but seeing that he leaves her spot open makes her happy, like it’s actual proof Eliot wants her there.  Soon he’s offering her spoonfuls of whatever’s on the stove to taste test, and Hardison is complaining from his spot on the couch that he never gets to taste test anything.  Eliot will growl and say it’s because Parker actually keeps him company, and Parker likes hearing that. 

            Sometimes Eliot’s got a wild look in his eyes, the look he gets when the job reminds him a little too much of who he used to be.  Parker talks on those nights, about anything, because she thinks that maybe her voice can make Eliot remember who he is now.  Parker doesn’t know who Eliot used to be, not really, but she knows she likes this Eliot, the one that he is now.  Other nights, when she’s the one who is feeling lost or scared, she stays quiet.  Those nights, she likes just hearing the sounds of Eliot cooking.

            Hardison doesn’t catch on at first, but one night he’s kicked back on the couch and he hears Parker talking in the kitchen.  Hardison’s had a policy of staying out of Eliot’s way when it comes to food ever since the breakfast incident a year back, but Parker’s always been a lot braver than him.  She doesn’t even seem to mind that Eliot’s replies are mostly growls.  It’s not until much later, when Hardison’s about to yell and ask when they’re eating, that he hears Eliot laugh, and he wonders if it was cooking or Parker or a combination that did that. 

            Hardison doesn’t question Parker about it, ever.  He remembers sitting in Nana’s kitchen when he was a kid.  There’d be a bunch of them in that tiny little room, with Nana singing and the rest of them providing backup vocals during the chorus.  Hardison just figures it’s comforting to Parker and leaves it at that.  He found out along the way that Parker’s never consistent with how she reacts to things.  Sometimes she wants to be around the others, and sometimes she disappears for hours before coming back with the wild-eyed look she gets when she’s been jumping off buildings. 

           On the nights when Parker drifts into the kitchen, Hardison just settles on the couch and waits for Eliot to call him over to the table.  Most nights, it’s a good conversation over even better food.  On the nights after the jobs where everything when south, he’ll find himself arranging ice packs on Eliot and letting Parker curl up against him like she does only when she needs to convince herself that he’s still in one piece. 

            Eliot thinks maybe he’s figured it out the night Parker grins at him.  “It feels like home.”  She says, and Eliot’s never quite felt the way as he does in that moment.  He can’t remember Parker ever using that word to refer to her own life.  It’s sadness and happiness all swirled together, and Eliot finally settles for returning the smile and offering Parker a taste of the sauce he’s making. 

            Parker knows why she likes sitting in the kitchen, but she can’t explain it until the night she’s listening to Eliot hum as he takes a little taste of the sauce simmering on the stove.  “It feels like home.”  She says, and it doesn’t even occur to her until Eliot’s wide eyes land on her that’s she never really called any place home.  Eliot gives her a smile back, and Parker closes her eyes as she tastes the sauce Eliot is offering her.  The kitchen is warm and smells like garlic and freshly cooked bread, and she can hear Hardison calling to ask how long until they eat and Eliot’s growled response.  This is exactly what home is supposed to feel like. 

            Hardison hears Parker say those words from his spot on the couch.  “It feels like home.”  She says, and Hardison thinks of how strange that sounds, coming from her.  But it does feel like home to him, has for a long time, and he’s glad that Parker feels the same.  He can’t think of a place he’d rather be than here with Parker and Eliot.  He doesn’t even bat an eye when Eliot’s answer to his yelled question about dinner is a lot grumpier than it needs to be.

**Author's Note:**

> Comments are appreciated!


End file.
